


Light A Fire Under The Mountain

by raendown



Series: Requested Works [14]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-23 18:30:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18707569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: After all the things they had gone through together and the ten long years they had been mated, Tobirama would have thought Madara understood that he didn't need gifts to stay here. There was no place he could possibly be happier than tucked under the mountain with a dragon to warm his bed and all the passion that entailed.





	Light A Fire Under The Mountain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kage88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kage88/gifts).



Tobirama hummed as he ran his fingers over the beautifully preserved leather before him, gold embossed lettering glittering enticingly along the spine, and smiled as he bent down to discreetly take in the scent of old parchment and ink. Just lifting the book and feeling the heavy weight of it in his hands was a thrill as he gleefully imagined all the glorious knowledge contained inside. Without even checking to see whether Madara was hidden away somewhere watching him Tobirama held the book to his chest and hurried over to their massive four poster bed, sinking himself down in to the space where he hadn’t even straightened the covers that morning and shuffled around until he’d made a perfect little nest in which to devour his latest present.

Maybe some of his lover’s habits were beginning to rub off on him. This urge to nest everywhere was starting to get a little out of hand. Not that Madara seemed to mind, really. If anything whenever Madara came across the little spaces Tobirama had claimed for one reading binge or another, small little bundles of blankets or pillows all drenched in his scent, the idiot always seemed to puff up twice as large with an odd sort of pride.

Dragons were like that, he’d come to understand, territorial and fond of marking their place. Tobirama would have thought he might object to someone else doing the same in amongst the caves where he kept his hoard but he hadn’t complained yet. If anything it seemed to please him.

His responses had started with subtle things, much to Tobirama’s surprise. Madara wasn’t exactly known for his ability to be subtle in pretty much anything but in this he at least started off well. His early gifts had been concealed as him merely showing something off that he ‘just thought Tobirama might like’, feigning surprise when the item was well received and suggesting a little too easily that Tobirama should keep it where he could find it again if he liked it so much. Over time Madara rapidly grew bored of the incidental gift charade and turned to much more obvious methods like boldly draping Tobirama in luxurious furs or leaving ancient texts prominently displayed on the bedside table like he’d done today.

Lost in the words on the page the moment he opened them across his lap, Tobirama couldn’t be sure how much time had passed or when his mate had appeared and slithered in to the space next to him. Between one moment and the next he became aware of the warmth pressing up against one side and the steady hot breathing against his wrist where Madara was peeking down at the book with something like pride in his eyes, a happy little curl of steam rising from under the massive bulk of his hair, pleased to see his gift being appreciated.

“Where did you get this?” Tobirama demanded breathlessly. “Every scholar I’ve ever spoken to has told me that every copy had been destroyed!” Madara sniffed in offense.

“Every copy _was_ destroyed. This is not a copy, obviously.”

Suddenly the book felt so much heavier over his lap, the weight of it doubled by the knowledge that it was an original volume many would give their last copper just to have the chance to peek at. With a great deal of willpower he managed to tear his eyes from the pages and turn to grant Madara an appropriately grateful kiss. “I would love to hear the story of how you came to possess such a valuable treasure.”

Madara rumbled with pleasure and nuzzled at the base of his neck. Nothing pleased a dragon more than sharing tales of treasure seeking.

Luckily he knew Tobirama well enough to know that he meant later when he wasn’t reading. Patient and long-lasting the elves might be but they were notoriously vicious when someone interrupted their deep focus and Tobirama was among the worst offenders for that. Neither of them moved very much for several more hours, not until Tobirama finished the last page and closed the cover with a deeply satisfied sigh. He most certainly would be reading this again several times to inspect every page for any extra little nuggets of information he might have looked over or passages he might have misinterpreted. Truly an excellent gift for someone like him.

Twisting down to look closer at the face lightly napping against his shoulder, Tobirama pressed a kiss against Madara's forehead to rouse him. His lover came awake with a low rumbling sound and a curl of smoke slipping out from between his teeth.

“No smoking in the bedroom,” Tobirama reminded him.

“Didn’t mean to.” He stopped immediately, the single little puff that escaped drifting up and dispersing easily. “You enjoyed the book, I see.”

“Have I ever _not_ enjoyed one of your gifts?”

“Gifts. Hmph.” Madara rolled away from him with a throaty chuckle and Tobirama rolled his eyes. He did _try_ to be polite in return for each present yet always he was met with this same odd laughter as though his being thankful were some sort of great inside joke.

Choosing not to dwell on the intricacies of a mad dragon’s brain, Tobirama stretched and looked around. The time-keeping device Madara had given him soon after he officially made his den here told him that he had read his way through the rest of the evening and almost the entire night cycle. Outside their mountain the sun would be waking soon and his stomach was very interested in the prospect of breakfast, having skipped dinner entirely by accident.

“Will you be greeting the sun?” he asked, legs kicking the nest of blankets apart so he could extract himself and head towards the food. Madara shot upright from where he had begun rolling in the leftover scent and hummed thoughtfully.

“Yes, it’s been a while since I gave my proper thanks.” His black eyes glowed red for a moment, the fires within stoked with excitement. Descended from the most ancient of bloodlines, only the dragons remembered the days when magic was first gifted to the world. As a creature of fire Madara owed his own embers to the sun from which he drew his power. “I should like a chance to stretch my wings as well.”

Tobirama smiled as he watched his favorite idiot scrambling about their bedroom. Why the man insisted on looking his very best in this form when it couldn’t even fly was beyond him but the ritual was important to Madara and so he said nothing like always. Instead he used the time it took his mate to get dressed to rummage through the kitchen and throw together a quick sandwich that he could carry with him up to the twisting staircase carved in to the wall just outside their bedroom, bare feet clinging to the living rock as he ascended the mountain and came out on to a small terrace overlooking the lands around them.

Watching Madara fly was always a treat no matter how many times he was honored to bear witness. Dragons being so protective of their hoards, it was rare for him to leave it undefended for any longer than it took to pop away for necessities like food. Settling down at a small table he had dragged up here just for these mornings, plate and sandwich balanced on his lap, Tobirama had only just taken his first bite when there came a thunderous roar from not far below. Black and red scales in the pattern of burning wood, Madara was without a doubt the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen with a temper to match. Perfect in every way. Tobirama nibbled his breakfast and watched those massive wings catch an updraft to ride it in lazy spirals.

Sun rituals didn’t look all that much different to him than aimless flying no matter how often Madara insisted there was a very specific flight pattern. It was still a pleasant way to start his morning, tracking the magnificent beast above him and admiring the shift of those impressive muscles, the beating of his wings, listening to the sound of his intermittent cries. Each roar echoed over the mountain range behind him and it was only the safe distance between them that allowed Tobirama’s sensitive ears to appreciate the siren sound.

It was, after all, hearing a dragon’s call in the distance that had first peaked his curiosity and led to their meeting for the first time, a woodland elf discolored and unwanted by his own tribe facing off against a fire dragon with teeth bared and body tensed to defend the territory he had claimed.

The sun had risen well over the horizon and the sky turned from golden dawn to clear midmorning by the time Madara finally returned, diving for the mountain he had made his home and tucking his wings in at the last second to slide his bulk in to one of the open rooms down below. Tobirama wriggled his toes and contemplated going down to greet him but he wasn’t overly fond of the lower rooms, half open to the world outside to give Madara a space to change his form, to take off from and land again. Without those rooms he would have had to crawl out the top of the mountain every time he wanted to fly. Since Tobirama had no need of so much space he preferred to stay in the upper floors where no breeze could flutter the pages of whatever books he chose to surround himself with.

Eventually he lingered on the terrace long enough for Madara to come find him and pull him back inside. Seeing the invigorated look in his eye, Tobirama followed along easily, allowing himself to be pushed back down in to their bed again for a bit of exercise they could both benefit from.

He napped afterwards, all the sleep he’d missed the night before catching up with him and sending him in to dreams almost before they could clean up after themselves.

When he woke again a light weight lay over him and he assumed that Madara had covered him with blankets until he shifted and something foreign brushed against his cheek. Peeking one eye open, he stared in sleepy confusion at the soft white strands in front of his face, wondering in the manner of someone still caught in a dream when his hair had grown so long. It wasn’t until he opened the other eye and the last remnants of sleep fell away that he realized it wasn’t his own hair but some kind of fur. Sitting up caused the fur to spill down around him, draping across his lap where he spent several minutes doing nothing but running his fingers through the soft white pelt.

Checking the room to make sure he was alone, Tobirama freed his legs and stood up to properly appreciate this latest gift. Lifting it high revealed that the fur was only part of it, that it wasn’t a blanket at all but instead a luxurious cloak with a thick fur collar that would cover both shoulder and partway down his back. From underneath all that fur blue silk flowed down to pool at his feet like cool water. Even considering the full chest of gorgeous clothing in their closet this was far and away the finest thing he had ever owned.

The cloak settled around his shoulders with the weight of an old friend, familiar in a way that made him wonder if there wasn’t some sort of enchantment hidden in the weave of the silk. As he turned this way and that to admire the material it shifted with him like a second skin so comfortable that he knew it would see a fair amount of use even outside of the colder seasons. It was always at least a little cold inside a mountain, after all.

He needed a place to admire this gift properly.

Madara found him dawdling in front of the tall mirror set up in one corner of the room where all the more glittery bits of his hoard were kept, the jewels and crowns he had wrestled from kings of all sorts, the gems and crystals he had stolen from miserly dwarves, weapons and armor polished and restored after defeating whichever knight wore it here in the hopes of conquering a dragon. Although Tobirama spotted his partner’s reflection as soon as it appeared he said nothing at first, only twisted his shoulders to admire the fall of silk again and revel in the hot eyes watching him from the doorway.

“It looks perfect on you,” Madara said at last. “Just as I thought it would.” His chest was puffed up and his face smug as he strutted across the room to nuzzle at the back of Tobirama’s neck.

“You continue to surprise me with your excellent taste,” Tobirama admitted. He laughed at the offended puff of air that displaced his hair and ducked away from the fingers coming up to flick reprovingly at his pointed ears.

“Surprised. Hmph. I’ll have you know I have always had good taste; I was the one who collected all these things in the first place, you know.” He paused and Tobirama could see the way his left eye twitched with information withheld. It took only a few seconds before he added, “I did have you in mind when I collected many of them, however.”

Tobirama nodded, unsurprised. He’d known from the moment he accepted a formal courtship that Madara would be seeking proper gifts to bestow upon him, though he would have thought that the well of potential offerings would have run out after they finally marked each other as an eternal partnership and he settled in to make his home here. A frown touched his brow as he thought about it a little more deeply. It had never occurred to him before but he wondered if Madara felt that he needed gifts to stay; not a pleasant thought.

“Perhaps I missed something when I studied dragon courtships; is it traditional to continue presenting gifts after the courtship is completed?” Hopefully asking his question in a roundabout manner would save Madara's pride from any potential bruising.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” Their gazes met in the mirror’s reflection and Madara cocked his head in question, curious little embers dancing in his eyes.

“The gifts that you give me. Like this one here.” Tobirama lifted a hand to fondly stroke the fur draped about his shoulders. “I was only wondering if all your kind continued the tradition after the courting was over or if that was something specific to you.” He rather hoped it was only in the man’s blood. The idea that Madara thought he needed bribes to stay did not sit well in his chest.

“You weren’t joking?”

Carefully turning around so their eyes could meet face to face, Tobirama frowned. “Joking?”

“When you call them gifts; I always thought it was just a little inside joke. Huh. None of the things I bring to you are gifts, Tobirama. All of these things already belong to you. I’m just…bringing you the pieces you haven’t found for yourself yet, the ones I know you’ll like best. I know you’ve no use for jewels and such.” Madara shrugged as though what he was saying made any sort of sense, casual and unconcerned.

“If they’re not gifts then how can they already belong to me? Aren’t they part of your hoard?”

Tobirama watched Madara narrow his eyes as though checking to make sure he was serious. Then they widened and he really didn’t think he deserved that looked of surprised distress. All he’d done was ask a question, he hadn't meant to make his partner sad!

“I suppose I never bothered to explain properly but, in my defense, I thought you would have realized on your own. We’re mated. That makes this _our_ hoard. Everything that I have gathered in my lifetime, everything inside this mountain and the territory I have claimed, all of it belongs to you just as much as it belongs to me. You’ve only been here for less than a decade, though, not enough time by far to sift through it all, so I thought you would like it if I helped you find all the pieces you would be most excited by.” As he spoke Madara rubbed a pinch of silk between two fingers, fiddling with the cloth to give himself somewhere else to look instead of meeting Tobirama’s eyes

“Everything here belongs to me too? But this is your _hoard_.”

“And?” Madara met his gaze again almost challengingly.

Trading as carefully as he could, Tobirama tried to explain the hesitance he was feeling. “You explained to me once how deeply personal and treasured your collection is to you, how every piece down to the last stitch on a bit of clothing is like a part of yourself, and I remember how you described what it felt like the time someone actually managed to take some of it away from you.”

Madara shivered with horror, echoes of that terrible day shadowing his face even now centuries later.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bring up bad memories.” Tobirama touched his partner’s face with gentle fingers. “All I meant was that I understand how deeply personal every item in this mountain is and I don’t want you to feel like you need to…I suppose I don’t know what I mean.”

“Everything I am is yours,” Madara told him, simple words for the incredible depth they carried.

Tobirama found his hand dropping, unsure of how to respond to that. Of course he knew that Madara loved him, how could he not after all they had gone through together during their courtship, and the fact that they had both come out the other side agreeing that spending the next several millennia of their lives was something they both wanted pretty much spoke for itself. Theirs was a particularly strong bond even among either of their kinds.

But for his partner to consider the deepest most sacred part of himself as belonging to both of them, that was so far beyond anything he could have ever asked of someone else. Overwhelmed by the very thought, touched in a way he couldn’t describe without somehow accidentally insulting the other, Tobirama pulled Madara closer to where he could duck his head for a slow kiss. That usually worked out for him more than trying to put his feelings in to words and after the years they had already spent together he’d learned that it was safer as well. Neither of them were overly fond of words where a soft kiss could communicate their feelings just as easily; it was one of the reasons they worked so well together.

A quiet sound of contentment escaped him as they pulled apart and Tobirama allowed his eyes to stay shut when he felt surprisingly gentle fingers combing through his hair. He kept them closed even after those fingers left his hair to trace the markings on his cheeks, brushing down the sides of his neck to follow those markings down to where they disappeared under his collar, but he did open his eyes again when he felt something plucking at the buttons on his shirt.

Madara was looking back from under the shadow of his bangs, his face pulled in to an uncharacteristically soft expression. The corners of his mouth tilted up in a quiet smile and his hands continued to pluck at Tobirama’s buttons without actually attempting to undo any of them. It was such new behavior that it actually took a minute or so for Tobirama to understand what his partner was asking.

When he did understand he responded with a smile of his own and a sigh of amused exasperation, asking, “Can you never just ask for things like a normal person?”

“You would get bored of me in less than a month,” Madara predicted.

“I haven’t gotten bored of you yet.”

“Good.” One last tug on his buttons and then Madara slipped closer to nuzzle the underside of his jaw. “Because I plan to keep you for many centuries and never let another creature touch you. You belong only to me.”

“Possessive,” Tobirama accused him. They both knew he didn’t really mind.

Without even bothering to respond to that Madara pulled him in for another kiss and slid both hands up his chest with a slight pressure, not so much pushing but guiding him backwards. Tobirama caught his partner’s hips in a firm grip to keep their bodies together as he allowed himself to be guided towards the other side of the room where a convenient pile of silks and furs lay stacked in one corner. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time they had taken advantage of this little haven, as evidenced by the shirt still half buried under a particularly soft mink pelt, a remnant of the passions in days past.

As he was pressed down in to the nest of furs Tobirama drew Madara in to his lap with a questioning look. His response was a hot kiss and the appearance of a small jade bottle in his partner’s hand. When Madara might have had time to grab the oil from their bedroom he didn’t know, though the possibility could not be discounted that he’d simply been carrying it around again like he did some times on the off chance they found themselves overwhelmed by each other in a room too far away from anything that counted as lubricant.

“Like this?” Tobirama murmured between kisses. Madara nodded and pressed the oil in to his hands.

“Undress me.” The demand was breathy and quiet but it was still a demand and Tobirama couldn’t help but let a huff of laughter escape him. Even in submission his mate was bossy and arrogant.

Still he did as he was asked. He couldn’t deny that it was a treat every time he had the chance to slowly peel the layers away from the man sitting astride his lap, all that well-toned muscle and miles of pale skin revealed for his pleasure inch by glorious inch. Never was he more thankful that Madara tended to dress in easily removable clothing than moments like this. The deep purple yukata fell away to crumple on the floor without care, white hadajuban following quickly afterwards. He snapped his teeth playfully when Tobirama toyed with the ends of his fundoshi but bent down for a kiss when he felt it finally tugged open and away from his skin.

Then it was only Tobirama who was overdressed in the beautiful cloak that he found himself quite unwilling to remove. Luckily for him Madara seemed to be thinking along similar lines, grazing his palm down the fur over one shoulder and exposing his teeth with a grin.

“You look like an important lord about to tumble his courtesan.”

“As if I would ever,” Tobirama sniffed, unsure if he was more offended on his own behalf or on Madara's considering what that scenario implied about either of them.

“Does Tobirama-sama not wish to be pleasured?” Madara asked. His innocent expression was the very definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing – or a wolf in dragon’s scales, as it were. No matter how tempting the idea was Tobirama knew better than to be fooled in to believing Madara would demure himself in such a way.

Solicitous of his mate he might be, yes, but a dragon’s pride could only allow for so much.

“Are you going to ride me or not?” Tobirama asked, trying to resist the twitching of his lips and failing spectacularly.

“Have you no class at all?” Madara despaired. “I am going to _make love_ to you. And you’re going to enjoy yourself and be thoroughly appreciative.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. Because I said so. Now are you going to actually get moving or am I going to have to open myself?”

Much as Tobirama did enjoy the vision of having Madara spread across his lap while the man rode his own fingers he may also have learned to be a tad possessive himself over the course of their relationship. The act of giving pleasure had grown to be something he enjoyed just as much and sometimes almost more than receiving it for himself, an unexpected byproduct of witnessing just how open Madara was with expressing his pleasure.

The jade bottle clinked against the stone floor when he set aside, a small pool of oil in one palm and a lightness in his chest as he bade Madara lean forward so he could reach around and stroke at his entrance, spreading the oil liberally before slipping one finger in without warning. Madara arched against him with a breathy curse. Not giving him even a moment to recover, Tobirama worked his finger in and out until he had his partner helplessly rocking with the motion. Then he added another and bit his lip against the sound that groaned in his ear.

Since neither one of them had ever been known to win any awards for their patience it pretty much par for the course that Tobirama didn’t spend too much extra time on opening his partner. He saw little point in it when he wasn’t in a position to also enjoy the delicious visuals or at least restrain the other man for some proper teasing. Now wasn’t the time for any of that. Right now he was much more interested in keeping their bodies as close as possible and nipping at Madara's bottom lip to distract him from the third finger working its way inside. It worked perhaps a little too well and he soon found himself only barely avoiding the fangs hidden just out of sight.

“If you bite me with those I will stop and make you bandage me too.”

“Spoilsport.” Madara licked over the scar on Tobirama’s shoulder where he had left his mark the first time they mated properly. “Can you blame me for wanting to claim what’s mine as often as possible?”

Tobirama responded by curling his fingers just a little shy of where he knew they were most wanted. When Madara began to squirm and shift in an attempt to encourage him in to that spot he pulled his fingers away entirely and ignored the grumbled protests as he used his clean hand to pat the man on one hip, leaning forward to stay close until Madara had shuffled back enough that they could both fumble in the limited space between them, fingers tangling together as they struggled to open the only layer of clothing left between them.

Finally his yukata opened and Tobirama preened under the sweep of hot eyes down his form. With his clothing opened but not removed and such a fine cloak still clasped about his shoulders he supposed he probably did look like some noble lord waiting to be pleasured. Straightening his shoulders to play up the part, he returned one hand to Madara's hip so he could guide their bodies in to place for them to come together at last, always his favorite part. By its very nature sex felt good and brought the two of them closer together but the moment of that final connection, sliding inside of Madara's body and knowing that they would never be more _one_ , that moment never failed to awe him even during the filthiest, most raw acts of base lust.

Waiting for his partner to adjust was a necessary torture that Tobirama distracted them both from with palms tracing over muscular thighs and tongue tracing patterns on the top of one shoulder. By the time Madara lifted his hips and sank back down with a soft groan it was hard to tell whether he was more breathless from the sensation of being filled or just from the blood rushing through his veins, heartbeat thundering so loudly Tobirama’s sensitive ears could just barely pick up the echo.

For all the energy sparking under their skin, however, neither of them moved with any sort of hurry. Madara rolled his hips at a languid pace while Tobirama rocked ever so slightly beneath him, more of a hindrance than a help, unable to stop himself from seeking out more of that tight heat every time it drew away from him and sighing with pleasure every time he was enveloped in bliss once more. When smoke began to gather between Madara's teeth they kissed again just to feel the thrill of danger, knowing his fire could erupt at the slightest loss of control.

As they moved together Tobirama found the world outside of their little nest falling away. Nothing else existed but for the strong thighs bracketing his own, the soft furs underneath them tickling his skin, the taste of smoke and the brush of Madara's voluminous hair falling around them like a curtain. Each time he opened his eyes he saw nothing but the coal of Madara's own staring back at him with that special brand of possessive adoration he had fallen in love with almost before he had agreed to a formal courtship. Nothing had ever made him feel as important as he did when he stood in the spotlight of Madara's attention, the center of his entire universe. The way his partner looked at him in times like now left no doubts in Tobirama’s mind that Madara was thinking of anything but him and the way they fit together.

Letting go of one writhing hip, Tobirama brought the hand still slippery with oil between them and waited until Madara lifted himself up to work that hand underneath at such an angle that he could feel the point where they connected. Madara paused to shudder violently and whined with impatience in a sure sign that he was getting close. Feeling merciful, Tobirama slowly retracted his hand, tracing along the perineum and cupping Madara's sacs on the way to wrap his fingers around the poor neglected shaft brushing against his belly.

With one firm stroke it was clear that neither of them would last very long. Just seeing the expression of bliss above him as they took up their unsteady rhythm again set a fire inside that would make his partner proud. He did his best to keep his strokes in time with Madara's movements but at the same time he found it harder and harder to concentrate the closer he drew to that edge he was racing for.

So focused was he that it actually startled him when Madara leaned forward to burrow in to the side of his neck, hips still working and back arched in an almost obscene visual treat.

“Don’t stop,” he commanded with his syllables cracked and broken around his shuddering breaths. Tobirama swore and used the hand still loosely wrapped around the man’s hip to guide him gently to another angle.

“Just- yeah there, fuck, hold on.” It took a slightly awkward roll of his own hips but he managed to get the angle he was looking for.

Madara swore furiously as he finally got some friction against his prostate. Every muscle in his body clenched and it seemed more of a visceral reaction when he slammed himself back down again rather than any sort of intentional movement. He came with a sharp cry and as he tightened even further around the length inside him he pulled Tobirama over the edge as well, both of them clinging to the other and moving together in desperate incoordination.

When he finally fell still Madara was gasping for air and pushing his face behind Tobirama’s shoulder to breath thick plumes of smoke against the furs. Tobirama held him there with one hand against the small of his back, the other still trapped between them, and could think only that he hoped the furs didn’t catch fire because the last thing he wanted at that moment was to be forced in to sudden movements. Anything other than lying here in the nest they had made and claimed sounded abhorrent. Sometimes Tobirama wondered if other mated couples felt even half as needy as they did, though it was usually a quick thought hastily discarded since there was very little he cared much about outside of their den.

Quiet mumbling in his ear caught his attention and Tobirama turned to nuzzle against the side of Madara's head with a questioning hum.

“All mine, my mate, keep, mine to have, _protect_ -”

“Yes, yes.” Tobirama pet the thick mass of hair blanketing over them and rolled his eyes with a hidden smile as Madara continued to mumble under his breath. He knew from experience that the man probably didn’t even realize he was doing it, the same way he usually didn’t realize he was mumbling possessively to himself whenever he got caught up playing with little bits and pieces of his hoard.

Closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of dragon smoke and sweat, their own natural scents entwined in perfect harmony, Tobirama discarded any thoughts about moving sometime in the near future. He hadn’t been awake all that long and despite his nap earlier this still made twice in one day they had tumbled in the proverbial sheets. His mind might be awake and rested but his body was tired and more than ready to find whatever excuse he could to simply lie still for a while. Madara, it seemed, had no problems with that idea.

When he shifted his legs to find a more comfortable position to stay in until the muttering his ear finally stopped, Tobirama felt a pleasant shudder ripple through him at the sensation of silk against his skin, a reminder of the cloak he was still wearing and the touching discovery that stemmed from it.

‘Their hoard’ had quite a lovely ring to it, kindling the same warmth in his belly as ‘their home’ always did. Perhaps later he would sort through the chamber where they kept the finest silks and satins and all manner of finery that Madara had managed to collect over the years. If he could find one that suited his mate as well as this one suited him they would make a fine matching pair the next time Hashirama managed to drag them out of the mountain to cavort with the rest of the world for a day or so before allowing them to crawl back in to blessed solitude.

Later. It was a nice plan and all but it could surely wait until later when he wasn’t still cradling Madara's weight in the curve of his lap, softened now yet still buried deep within this man he had claimed as his own. For now all he wanted to do was card his fingers through Madara's hair and let his mind drift away while he listened to the rumbling voice in his ear speak the disjointed language he had come to know as love.


End file.
